Just a Pucking Prank [COMPLETED]

Chapter 42 - Rumors

Wes

Lydia storms off to the back and I wonder how I managed to fuck it up again. I've never seen pain like I saw on her face when she told me about her parents. Knowing there was nothing I could do to take it away.

She never answered my texts afterward. And now she's mad at me and I don't understand.

"She's weird," Ethan says.

"Yeah, what the hell was that about?" Dustin, a new member of the team, asks.

"Nothing," I say again. "It was nothing."

"Careful, dude," Liam says, "or people are going to get the wrong idea."

My eyes finally leave the door she disappeared through and home in on Liam. "And what idea would that be?"

"You know how rumors are," he says, picking up a mug with his number on it. "People might think you're one of her boytoys."

There's laughter all around me and I clench my fists at my sides. She had better not have heard that. If she ever finds out the way they talk about her...

"I heard she gets around a lot," Dustin says.

"She's been all over Greek row," Ethan says. The rest of the guys are closing in, listening to the conversation.

"Is it true she slept with five of the Kappa guys in one week?" Dustin asks with wide eyes.

"True," Liam says.

I can't hold it in anymore. "So what?" My voice is louder than I anticipated. "Most of you have slept with more puck bunnies than I can keep track of."

"Chill, man. It's different."

I spin on Ethan. "Different how? Are men allowed to sleep around but women aren't?"

"All I'm saying is she's a sloppy mess." Ethan shrugs. "She's all kinds of fucked up and-"

My fist connects with his face, and pain radiates through my arm.

"What the hell?" Ethan shouts and cups his cheek. A bruise is already forming.

"Easy." Liam steps between us, holding out his arms as if that would stop me from punching the bastard again.

"Fucking hell, Wes," JD says as he comes running from the other side of the store. "What's wrong with you?"

I exhale heavily. My fingernails are cutting into my palms and I force myself to relax my fists.

"What the hell was that about?" Ethan asks. "You know it's things like this that make people talk."

I take a step forward and JD puts his hands on my shoulders.

"And what are they saying?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

Ethan takes a step back and looks genuinely afraid.

"Nothing. But if you keep this up, people are going to think she's your girlfriend or something."

Would that be so bad? I glare at him as he gently pokes at his face to see if it's broken. My hand hurts, so I'm thinking he's not feeling too great.

"We're on the same team," JD says. "I will not tolerate fighting. Wes? Do you understand that?"

I grunt and nod. I probably shouldn't have hit him. "As long as he doesn't talk about her ever again. Because if I hear one mean word about her, I will ruin you."

Ethan goes pale. "I won't say anything."

They look at me oddly, and I know I've created a lot of questions. Lydia comes out from the backroom and glances over at us. She must not have heard the commotion. Everyone is looking at her, and she squints and takes a deep breath.

"We should get going," JD says. "The public skate is about to begin. See you later."

I nod at them as they file out of the store. They head for the rink and I carefully shake out my hand. It hurts, and I'm sure Ethan will have quite the bruise. But I doubt any of them will tell Coach. He might figure it out, but nobody will sell me out. At least I don't think they will. Because JD will handle it. And that will be enough for all of them.

I swear to myself. If this somehow got back to my uncle, I'd be in big trouble. He is a big proponent of sportsmanship and fair play.

But what was I supposed to do?

Lydia is unpacking hats across the store. She looks sad. And angry. And I want to take all of that away. I want to hold her and tell her that everything will be alright and I'll make sure nobody ever says a mean thing about her ever again.

If she knew, she'd probably laugh.

I can't stay away. So, without a word, I walk up to her and help her with the hats. At least I can reach the higher shelves for her.

And if being next to her is all I can get, I'll take it. I just want to be near her. I want to breathe the same air as her, smell her shampoo. And if she ever allows me to touch her again, I'd probably come from the sheer joy of it.

I want her to trust me. I do. But I have no idea how to make that happen.